


the fifth kind

by sunshine_captain



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Time, Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Spaceships, Vulcan Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 06:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17136800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshine_captain/pseuds/sunshine_captain
Summary: James Kirk is a lonely, unfulfilled farmer. Spock is the alien that lands in his cornfield. When faced with a choice between hitting Spock with a shovel or inviting him in for coffee, Jim picks coffee.A very soft modern-day AU.





	the fifth kind

**Author's Note:**

> Where the title came from may be obvious, but if not, it's from close encounters of the fifth kind, described as "bilateral contact experiences through conscious, voluntary, and proactive human-initiated cooperative communication with extraterrestrial intelligence." (Thank you, Wikipedia.)
> 
> This all started because I was thrilled with the idea of Spock mentally swooning over shirtless farmer!Jim. Then I thought about how amazing second generation not-quite-crash-landing Spock was, and it grew from there. Became monstrous. I really hope you all enjoy this, I became enormously fond of it while working on it.

It's two in the morning, and Jim is relaxing on his back deck with his dog when Lady sits bolt upright and starts barking.

"Whoa, girl, what's wrong?" Jim pets her, searching the darkness beyond the porch light for what may have disturbed her.

Then he hears it, what she heard before his human ears could perceive it: a barely audible whistling noise. An instant later, there's a flash of light so bright it leaves dazzling imprints in his vision for seconds after.

It came from his cornfield. Jim gets out of his rocking chair so fast he almost knocks it over, snagging the closest thing that can be used for a weapon (a shovel) before heading out to see what in the world is going on out there.

“Stay there,” he tries to order Lady, but she’s dead set on coming with him, pressed close to his legs and growling protectively. “Alright then, come on.”

The closer he gets to the field, the crazier things get. There’s a strong metallic smell in the air, and more lights, these shining steadily through the corn. They almost look like headlights.

Or….landing lights.

Jim grips his shovel tighter as he reaches the edge of the field, and a decision. He can step into the field, push his way through the corn, and see what’s out there. Or he can turn around, go back into his house. Lock all the doors, call the sheriff. Maybe just go to bed and pretend nothing is happening.

He remembers his childhood, all the time he spent poring over books, cheap science fiction novels and nonfiction treatises on space alike. He dreamed of going out there once, exploring the stars. He used to daydream about what could be out there, what kind of life. _Aliens._ Little Jim Kirk had just known that there had to be something, someone else out there.

That was a long time ago. Before Dad got sick and he had to quit school to come home and help out on the farm. Before Sam moved away and Mom followed him. Before.

Jim knows there’s only one choice he can make. This is absurd, something out of a movie, but he has to know. He’s got an explorer’s spirit, and he wouldn’t ever be able to rest easy if he doesn’t go look. He would be forever wondering.

He doesn’t have far to go through the field. Smack dab in the middle of it is a spaceship. There’s no other way to describe the sleek, shiny craft sitting on top all of Jim’s lovingly tended, now obliterated, corn.

“My god,” Jim breathes, crouching beside Lady and looking at the thing in wonderment. There’s a ship sitting in his field. A ship from outer space. It came down and _landed in his field._

Lady is silent, seemingly as amazed as he is. She lets him put an arm around her and together they watch the ship. The lights go out suddenly, making Jim jump, and then there’s a soft whooshing sound as a ramp suddenly detaches itself from the smooth metal and lowers. 

There’s light within, but Jim can’t make out the interior of the ship. He doesn’t even try, because his attention is almost immediately grabbed by _the figure coming down the ramp_ , haloed by the light behind it. 

The creature, the person, steps off the ramp and it disappears back up into the outline of the ship like it was never there to begin with.

It’s dark and quiet again, and there’s just the silent ship, Jim, his dog, and an alien.

Jim stands up and holds his shovel in readiness. You can’t be too careful. “Why are you in my field?” he calls over to the creature.

The figure startles, and then a light from the ship comes back on, apparently by command. This one is much softer and gentler than the landing lights, allowing Jim and the alien to see each other but not be blinded.

“Greetings, Terran,” the man (because it is a man, Jim sees now, with black hair and pointed ears), “Is this Brighton, Iowa?”

“Uh.” Jim blinks. “No, this is Riverside. Right state, wrong town.”

Pause. “Ah. That is unfortunate. This looks just like the description I was given. Fields of a Terran vegetable known as corn.”

Jim can’t help himself, he laughs. “That describes pretty much the whole state. Iowa is covered with corn. So I assume the answer to my question is, you didn’t intend to land in _my_ field, you were aiming for another town?”

“That is correct.” The alien walks closer to Jim and holds up his right hand, fingers parted. This apparently has some kind of significance. “I am Spock of Vulcan. Though this is not the place I was searching for, I am nevertheless here. Live long and prosper.”

Jim lowers his shovel. Spock doesn’t seem to be a threat. “I’m Jim. Jim Kirk. Um, Spock, nice to meet you?” He holds his hand out, and Spock stares at it, eyes widening. Jim pulls it back and waves awkwardly instead. 

Lady chooses that moment to abandon Jim. She walks right up to Spock, tail wagging, and politely waits to be petted.

Her manners have always been too good for her to jump on people. Spock pats her head experimentally, and when she woofs encouragingly he pets her properly, fingers trailing over her silver fur with evident interest.

“Fascinating,” he murmurs, bending down to get a better look at her. “Is this a canine?”

Spock makes a movement at his belt, and Jim steps forward in alarm, raising the shovel again. “What are you doing?”

“My apologies.” Spock raises his hands, showing Jim what he retrieved. “I merely wanted to scan this creature with my tricorder.”

Jim stares at the device in puzzlement and Spock explains, "It is a device that gathers and stores data."

"A computer," Jim says, understanding.

"Yes, essentially." Spock's attention shifts from Lady to Jim himself. "It would be interesting to scan you as well, Mr. Kirk."

Aware suddenly that he's shirtless, Jim flushes a little. "I don't know if that's the best idea. Look, Spock, I don't want to hang around in this field all night. I think it's best if you get back into your ship and go back to….Vulcan, did you say?"

Lady, who is still being idly petted by Spock, nuzzles against him and gives Jim what he interprets as a reproachful look.

This is utterly surreal. There's an alien standing in front of him, and he's being betrayed by his own dog.

_Think about what you've got in front of you,_ Jim tells himself. _What you always dreamed about. A real life alien._

"On second thought, do you want to come inside? For coffee?"

Spock tilts his head to one side, considering this. "Yes, I believe I would, Mr. Kirk."

"Call me Jim, please. No need for formalities, especially since all you gave me was your first name."

"Very well, Jim." Spock follows Jim out of the field, switching the light off on his ship as he goes. "You would not be able to pronounce my last name."

Jim notes that Lady is walking beside Spock and not him. He relaxes. She's a good judge of character. For her to be so at ease beside Spock, she must not think he's a threat.

Jim deposits his shovel on the porch and goes inside. He glances back and sees Spock close the door behind him, glance around the kitchen of the farmhouse, and immediately pull out his tricorder, holding it out towards things and staring intently at it.

Jim turns away to hide his smile, switching on the coffee pot. "Did you want some coffee? Or something else to drink?"

"Coffee? Ah, yes, a beverage humans drink as a way of ingesting caffeine. I would ordinarily prefer tea, but I have always been curious about coffee. My mother often laments its absence on Vulcan."

Jim freezes in the middle of getting down coffee cups and swivels to face his alien guest. "Your mother?"

Spock glances away from the loaf of bread he’s examining and raises one eyebrow. "Ah, yes. I suppose I have not yet informed you that my mother is a human."

It takes a minute for that to sink in, because Jim is distracted by the fact that he's attracted to Spock. The realization slams into him with that eyebrow movement. Spock is handsome and from _another planet._

Then he blinks, realizes what Spock said, and blinks again. "Your mom is a human?"

"Correct."

"How did that happen, exactly?"

"That?"

"Your birth." 

The coffeepot beeps, and Jim quickly pours two cups. “Do you want sugar? Milk?”

“Sugar is acceptable.”

Two spoonfuls of sugar go into each cup, and then Jim places them on the dining table, sliding Spock's across to the other side. "Have a seat."

Spock does, peering at his cup with interest. "I am not the first of my race to land on your planet, Jim. My father before me came here."

"To Brighton?" Jim guesses, remembering the town Spock named. "That's the place you meant to land, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. My mother speaks often of her home planet, and she described in some detail the appearance of the town she was born in. A small human settlement with many farms, covered in fields of the vegetable known as corn."

"Like I told you before, that describes pretty much this whole state. There's a ton of tiny towns around here."

Spock takes a sip of his coffee and hums thoughtfully. "Interesting. I do not believe this beverage deserves the reverence with which my mother speaks of it."

Jim laughs. "You don't like it?"

"I do not find the taste particularly compelling, but it is acceptable. I find I prefer tea."

"Sorry I don't have any tea to offer you." Jim shrugs. His mother was the tea drinker in the family, and Sam probably packed up the teabags along with the rest of her belongings when she moved out west. "You were telling me about how your parents met?"

"Yes. My father's arrival was quite accidental, as he crashed on my mother's property during a survey of your planet."

"Into her cornfield?" Jim asks with a grin. Seems like father and son both have a propensity for landing their ships in strangers' fields. "She wasn't scared?"

"She was mildly alarmed at first, but her fascination soon overcame her fear. My mother is a linguist, and found life in her small town quite unsatisfying. My father offered an unprecedented opportunity to her. He was stranded on Earth for several months and stayed with her while he fixed his ship. They got to know one another, and he offered to bring her back to Vulcan with him. She accepted.”

As Jim digests this, his eyes trace the curve of one pointed ear. His face warms slightly as he takes in the sight of this alien sitting across from him over cups of coffee. His shiny dark hair, his soft brown eyes. He's cute.

"So you came to look around," Jim prompts.

Spock nods. "I came out of a desire to not only become more familiar with my mother's birth planet but also to potentially become acquainted with other members of her race. She is the only human on Vulcan, and consequently the only one I know. One individual is not sufficient to form opinions on an entire race."

Spock wants to know what humanity is like, is what Jim gets out of this. He said as much, albeit in a convoluted fashion.

"Well, here I am," Jim says with a smile, spreading his arms in an invitation for questions. "A human."

"Indeed." Spock considers him for a moment. "I find your attire fascinating. Do humans often go about half unclothed?"

Reminded suddenly again of the fact that he has no shirt on, Jim crosses his arms self consciously, noting the way Spock focuses on his arms flexing as he does so. "No, we don't. It's the middle of the night and I was in bed, so I was undressed."

"If you were in bed, why were you outside?"

So many questions! Jim can't blame him though, really. He must be almost as much of an enigma to Spock as Spock is to him. It's clear they share the same innate curiosity of the unknown. "I couldn't sleep, so I was watching the stars with Lady."

At her name, she lifts her head from her place by Jim's feet, tail thumping the floor.

Spock's lips quirk upwards in what might be a smile. "I, too, often find myself observing the night sky on Vulcan when I cannot sleep."

_Vulcan._ Another planet. Jim remembers his old dreams and is hit with a sense of longing and sadness. "What is it like? How far away is it, do you see the same constellations? Do you have a moon, how many suns?"

"It is a largely desert planet, quite hot with one sea, and no other bodies of water of any significant size. We are 16.5 light years away, so yes, Jim. We see the same stars that you do. Vulcan has only one sun and no moon, though there is one object visible in the night sky: T'Kukht, our sister planet."

Jim pictures the moonless night on Vulcan, the heat of the day fading to a tolerable cool as Spock sits gazing up at the stars. Another pulse of longing hits him.

For the next two hours, he sits enraptured as Spock describes Vulcan in greater detail, including the wildlife ("There are sehlats, which my mother likens to giant Terran teddy bears with fangs...") and customs (Spock speaks of someone named Surak with shy reverence), and more about his parents: Amanda, a human who was too smart and talented to be trapped in her tiny Iowa hometown, and Sarek, a Vulcan who stunned his entire clan by bringing home a human and marrying her.

Finally, Jim stands up and stretches muscles that have cramped from sitting in one posture for so long. Spock's eyes track the movement again, and Jim excuses himself for long enough to put a shirt on, finally. He can't say he doesn't appreciate Spock's attention, even if it is only because he's fascinated by meeting a human that's not his mother.

In his bedroom, Jim almost confesses to Lady that he's finding Spock attractive for reasons beyond the fact that he's an alien, only to realize she's not in there with him.

In fact, she stayed behind in the kitchen with Spock. Jim walks back in to find Spock kneeling beside her, rubbing her belly. Lady looks like she's in heaven with his long, graceful fingers apparently finding the best places to scratch.

"She really likes you," Jim comments, not sure if he's jealous of Spock or Lady.

"Animals have always exhibited a fondness for me," Spock admits, looking up at Jim with a genuine, if small, smile.

It's such a sweet expression, and it hits Jim hard. So far Spock has seemed curious but reserved, stoic. Now it's like he's let his guard down a little.

Jim wants to keep this moment, get Spock to open up even more. "The sun will be rising soon. Would you like to watch it?"

"I would."

"In the meantime, let me fix you something to eat. You just traveled all that way, you must be hungry."

"Spaceflight often has the opposite effect, and has been known to negate appetites.”

Jim raises his eyebrows at Spock, mimicking the action Spock has pulled on him a couple of times, and waits. Spock didn’t specify whether he was hungry or not.

“I believe I could eat if you prepared food, Jim,” Spock admits.

Grinning, Jim jumps up and paces over to the fridge. “Perfect! I’ll make you some breakfast, since it’s technically morning right now.”

Spock has turned in his seat to watch Jim rummage around. “I must inform you that Vulcans do not consume meat, and so I must request that you not serve me any.”

Vegetarian? Somehow, it makes sense, fits Spock in a way Jim can’t explain. “Don’t worry, there’s no meat in French toast. This is something my mom used to make for me all the time when I was a kid.” It was the best tasting thing in the world, possibly because he knew that most of the ingredients came from right there on the farm.

It’s quiet except for the sounds of Jim cooking. He knows Spock is studying every movement and action, but the scrutiny is not uncomfortable. It’s pleasant to have someone take so much interest in him. It’s been a while.

He’s been alone for a long time.

As Jim is trying to figure out what drink to give Spock, his companion speaks again. “You mentioned your mother. May I ask where she is?”

There’s nothing but guileless curiosity in his tone, but Jim tenses anyway. His messy family dynamics aren’t something he really wants to get into, especially since from the sound of it, Spock has a happy family, interspecies though it may be.

"My mom lives with my brother out west."

Spock seems to notice his tension, because he doesn't inquire further, and instead just waits quietly until Jim puts the French toast and some orange juice in front of him.

Jim pours himself some more coffee and sits back to enjoy watching Spock taste Earth cuisine for the first time. 

Spock is a grown man, but he's adorable as he cuts his food up and then cautiously tastes a small bite. His eyes close in obvious pleasure.

"What do you think?"

"It is very intriguing," Spock says and then takes another, much larger bite. "This is what my mother refers to as 'sweets', is it not?"

"Sort of, yeah. Do you not have a lot of sweet food on Vulcan?"

"We do not. Our cuisine is more often sour or spicy than sweet. My mother often cited sweets as being the thing she missed most after coffee, particularly an item called a brownie."

Warmth blooms in Jim as he watches Spock eat and obviously enjoy his food. It's been so long since he's had someone to cook for. He's missed it. "I can make you some of those, too, if you stick around long enough."

"If you are amenable, I would appreciate the opportunity to help you prepare them."

Jim thinks about baking with Spock, delighted. "I think that could be arranged."

Spock finishes his food and Jim gets up. He's not going to pause for something as mundane as clearing the table or doing dishes when he could be outside looking at the stars with a cute alien.

"Ready to go outside?" Spock nods his acquiescence and comes to the door. Jim remembers Spock's description of his home planet and grabs a blanket off the couch. Spock might get cold.

They settle into rocking chairs, Lady eschewing her usual place at Jim's feet for a position between the chairs, equally close to both of them.

Jim offers the blanket wordlessly to Spock.

"Thank you, Jim." Spock reaches for the blanket and their fingertips brush. A sensation almost like static electricity, but not painful, passes between them. Spock freezes.

"Spock?" Jim asks, concerned.

Spock seems to regain his composure, withdrawing his hand, bringing the blanket with him. "It is no matter. You stated you were watching the stars. Do you do that often?”

The sky is just beginning to lighten in the east, but the stars are still visible. Jim looks at the silver points of light, and instead of his usual mix of sadness and longing, he feels curiously at peace. Probably because of the being _from_ the stars right next to him. There’s no air of judgement coming from Spock, and Jim feels like he can speak the truth out loud for the first time, admit what was stolen from him without being deemed as selfish.

“I’ve always loved looking up at the sky, and I’ve always wanted to go further than just looking. I wanted to be out there, up there, exploring space. I was always sure we couldn’t be the only planet harboring life. I wanted to have a career either in space or learning about it. Studying planets, trying to contact any intelligent life forms that might be out there.” Jim has to grin at Spock, acknowledging the irony that intelligent life found _him._

“The fact that you are present here on this farm would seem to indicate that you did not get to fulfill your dreams.”

Hearing it in Spock’s soft voice makes it hurt more. Jim thinks about Sam’s face, twisted with anger, the one and only time he’d tried to tell his older brother what had been stolen from him. “No. I was in college when my dad got sick. He wasn’t able to continue working on the farm anymore, and my mom couldn’t take care of him and the farm by herself. My brother wouldn’t come home to help, so I quit school and came back.”

Spock has abandoned the pretense of looking at the sky altogether and is staring at Jim, quietly intense. "Why did you not complete your education, Jim?"

Jim sighs and shakes his head. "I just never felt like I could. My dad never got better, just stayed sick until he died a couple years after I came home, and then I had to stay and look after my mom. When she went to live with my brother, it was too late. I was too old and I missed my chance."

Spock is still looking at Jim, with that same sober intensity. "What if you had another chance?"

"What?" Jim chuckles. "Don't get philosophical on me, even if we are here for the sunrise."

"What if I gave you a chance, Jim?"

A chance. "What exactly are you offering me, Spock?"

"A chance to see what you always wished to." Spock leans across the space between their chairs and puts his hand on Jim's forearm. There's a sleeve between their skin, but Jim gets the feeling Spock touching him is significant. "I will you take you up in my ship, and show you whatever you wish to see. The other planets in your solar system. The star you call the sun."

"Spock...." Jim doesn't know how to refuse. Doesn't know if he _can._ "Spock, I...."

"I would take you beyond your solar system, if you wished it." Spock is watching Jim with those soft, dark eyes, speaking quicker now, as if he can feel Jim on the edge between acceptance and refusal. "I would show you the Crimson Nebula and the Falerian Anomaly. I would take you to Vulcan, Jim Kirk, if you desired it."

"That's not fair, Spock!" Jim jumps out of his chair and paces the length of the porch. Lady, disturbed by his agitation, whines. Spock rests a hand on her head and she quiets. "You can't just sit there and offer me what you know I've wanted all my life, when I can't in good conscience accept!"

"Why not?" 

Jim freezes mid-step. Spock cocks his head and repeats his question.

"What obligations hold you here, where you are so clearly unhappy and unfulfilled?"

"I wouldn't say I'm unhappy," Jim offers the token protest weakly. He can't do this, can't start to delve into his excuses for staying here. "And why would you make an offer like that? We only just met."

Can't get his hopes up, can't even allow himself to consider Spock's offer. It won't come to pass, and he doesn't think he can stand that crushing disappointment again, if he starts to hope only to have to watch Spock take off in his ship without him, disappearing among the stars once he realizes he doesn't actually want to be stuck with a human he barely knows.

"You have the spirit of an explorer, and the mind of a seeker of knowledge. To leave one who shines as brightly as you do here, to a life of solitary fieldwork, is an utter waste."

The whole time, Spock maintains that quiet intensity, radiating utter sincerity and conviction.

Jim is breathless. No one has ever spoken about him like that before. Even his partners of the past never described him like that.

"I can't just leave," he says softly, wondering if Spock can tell how badly he wants to say yes. "Who would look after the farm? The crops, the animals. And my family is here." Far away, and they don't speak often, but they're on the same planet.

"Could your brother not hire someone to tend the farm? Or sell it, as it did not sound as though he was as concerned with it as you are." Spock looks away from Jim for the first time, past him to the sky. "I would not force you to come with me, Jim. I merely wished you to know that the offer was there. And now, here is the sunrise we came outside to view."

Jim turns around. Spock is right; the sun is beginning to rise, the sky turning yellow and orange, with streaks of violet here and there. The land is so flat that the sun looks huge, seeming to fill the whole sky. Jim never stops finding it beautiful.

They sit silently watching it, until finally Spock stands up and folds the blanket, placing it with care in the chair. “I believe it is time I leave.”

Panic grips Jim. He’s not ready, doesn’t want Spock to leave. Once he’s gone, it’ll be like none of this ever happened. Back to his solitary life, until even the memory of the handsome alien will fade. “Already? Are you sure you don’t want to stay a little longer? You haven’t even gotten to see much of Earth, nothing outside of my farm. There’s so much more.”

"I believe I have stayed long enough. I must return to Vulcan before my absence is noted; my father is not aware of my journey." Spock pause, and seems to consider something. "Would you escort me to my ship, Jim?"

He doesn't want to have to watch Spock board his ship and take off, but he can't bear not to see it, to witness the incredible sight of it in flight. He knows it will be a memory he'll treasure for the rest of his life, just like Spock's whole visit. "Yeah, I will."

Spock leads the way across the yard and towards the corn field. In the dawn light, Spock's profile is lit up, the delicate curves of his ears just visible, drawing Jim's gaze.

When they reach the ship, Spock turns the exterior lights on and lowers the ramp. Jim, actually paying attention this time, sees him do so with a switch on his tricorder.

Spock mounts the ramp, then turns unexpectedly back to face Jim. "Would you like to come aboard?"

_Of course,_ Jim wants to shout, but he only nods and says, "Yes." As he follows Spock up the ramp, he thinks briefly of all those alien abduction stories he's heard about, read about, but he dismisses the possibility immediately. If Spock wanted to abduct Jim, he would have done it when he first landed.

Besides. Even though he's only known Spock for a few hours, he already has a sense of him as a person. Spock is too kind and honest to even consider doing such a thing.

Jim hears claws on the metal ramp behind him and pauses. “Do you mind if Lady comes in, too?”

“I do not.”

Jim climbs the rest of the way up, and then sucks in a breath of surprise. The entry way opens into a rounded space dominated by the almost continuous windows that wrap around the inside. In the center, a shallow depression contains some seats stationed behind a console that Jim assumes holds the central controls for the craft. In the very back of the craft is a small niche with a mat and a small lamp.

Spock notices him staring at it and says vaguely, "For meditation."

"Spock...." Jim moves to stand by the seats. There's two, for pilot and co-pilot? "This is...."

Words fail him. He stares out the huge windows, currently showing only a blurry view of corn, and tries to imagine what it must be like to be in space, the stars and dark mystery of space separated from him by only the glass.

"It is to your liking?" Spock is right behind him, and has been observing him this whole time. Jim isn't surprised.

"To my liking? Spock, it's amazing." Jim pats his leg and Lady trots over. He curls his fingers in her fur and tries not to sound too bitter. "We don't have anything like this, and probably won't, not in my lifetime. Even if we did, I wouldn't be allowed near it. Are crafts like this common on Vulcan?"

"Jim, this is my father's personal ship. The official crafts of the United Federation of Planets are much more technologically and physically impressive."

Jim doesn’t know which part of that to address first, the fact that this is Spock’s _father’s_ ship (they have a ship this amazing at their disposal?) or the Federation thing.

“United Federation of Planets? There are other planets besides Vulcan and Earth with sentient life?” 

“There are currently one hundred and twenty-four planets with membership in the Federation,” Spock says, gently.

Jim puts a hand on the chair next to him for support and then startles when it swings around towards him. He sinks into it slowly. Over a hundred planets with intelligent species, and on Earth debate still rages if there’s even _one_ out there. “People on this planet, if you believe in aliens, in intelligence not from Earth, you’re labeled as crazy, a fool. When I was a kid, I used to talk about aliens, and the other kids just made fun of me.”

He sighs, and turns the chair to face the console. It’s comfortable, and sitting in it, on this ship, Spock beside him, it feels _right._

Spock is quiet, just watching him, so Jim brings up the other half of Spock’s statement. “Your father’s ship, huh? Did you happen to have permission to take his ship for a ride?”

Spock looks away from him at last, the tips of his ears, to Jim’s amazement, slowly turning green. Spock is _blushing._ “I…. I did not consult my father before I left Vulcan in his ship.” Spock-speak for _I didn’t have his permission, I just took it,_ Jim supposes.

“That explains why you’re in such a hurry to get back,” Jim is completely unable to contain his grin. “So much for taking me to that nebula, you need to get the ship back before your father discovers it’s gone.”

Spock steps closer to him and rests a hand on the edge of the console, close enough to Jim's arm that he's pretty sure it's him Spock wants to touch instead, and only a sense of propriety is keeping him from doing so. "I will take you to the Crimson Nebula, Jim. You need only ask."

"I already told you, Spock, I can't just leave. And your father—"

"You do not have to leave permanently. I will take you on a short trip to the Nebula, and then return you here." Spock pauses, and it is _definitely_ a smile, that tiny curl to his lips. "As for my father, it is illogical to dwell on his reaction before I am required to face it. He will be displeased that I took the ship, the length of my absence will not be a significant factor in his disapproval."

Spock's way of saying _I'm already fucked, why not?_

Jim considers it, absentmindedly trailing his fingers over the alien softness of the seat he's in. He'll come back. He's not shirking his responsibilities. Just one trip, to see something he's hardly dared dreamed of for years. Going into space, with this beautiful, intelligent man that's watching him so steadily, making Jim's insides warm with the softness of his gaze—

"Okay," Jim agrees. "Yeah, I. Take me." That sounds suggestive, so he clears his throat and quickly adds, "To the nebula."

"Then may I suggest you move to the other seat, so that I am able to pilot?"

Giddy now with excitement, Jim eagerly does so. The other chair is just as comfortable as the pilot's seat. Spock sits down and immediately starts pressing buttons on the console.

At once, the lights on board brighten, the console lights up, the ramp retracts, and the ship begins to thrum, the noise of the engine quiet but just audible.

For all his excitement, Jim hasn't forgotten his favorite girl. Even as he savors the slight vibrations, he checks on Lady.

She's moved over with him, and is sitting quietly between Jim and Spock. When she realizes Jim is looking at her, she whines a little and nudges his leg.

"It's okay," he tells her, petting her reassuringly. "We're in good hands." Lady rests her head on his knee and he gives her a soothing scratch behind the ear.

"Prepare yourself," Spock warns. As soon as the words are out, there's an increase in engine noise, and then they're in the air, the corn field receding rapidly.

Jim stares out at the dawn sky, now all around them as they rise, and holy hell, how fast are they going?

A new, terrifying thought occurs to him. "Spock," he says urgently. "How did you get past the satellites on your way down? The— the government surveillance devices, did they see you?"

“You needn’t worry, Jim. There is a mechanism on this ship known as a cloaking device that will shield us from your planet’s rudimentary satellites.” Spock hits another button on the control board. There’s no change to the engine or ship that is apparent to Jim, but they’re rising higher and higher into the sky and no jet fighters are coming to attack them, so he trusts that they really are hidden from view.

"You Vulcans have thought of everything," Jim says, admiring and a little jealous.

"Indeed, we have," Spock agrees unexpectedly, and Jim laughs.

After another minute, Spock announces that they're about to leave the atmosphere, and Jim straightens in his chair, hands gripping the arms so hard it hurts. His eyes are glued to the windows, in anticipation of what he's waited his whole life to see.

The moment it happens, that they break free of Earth and hurtle into space, Jim stands without even realizing, moving unconsciously towards the windows to press a hand against them. The stars glittering in the black are so beautiful. The Earth, and the sun, so much larger than he's ever seen it before, are too.

A surge of emotion washes over him. He doesn't cry, but it's powerful. Jim senses a presence at his shoulder and knows Spock is there, standing silently with him, gazing out at what only a small number of humans have ever seen, and never from an alien spacecraft.

"I tried to imagine it so many times," Jim says softly. "I never came close."

"It is quite arresting, is it not?"

"Yeah." His voice is a little rough. He clears his throat. "Sorry. This is, I'm a little emotional, you know?"

"Vulcans control our emotions through logic and meditation, but I am half human. I, too, experienced a surge of emotions when I left Vulcan and experienced the sight of the universe for the first time."

Spock's tone of voice, their closeness, and the twinkle of stars in black velvet wrapped all around them make the moment seem close, even intimate. Jim gets the impression that Spock is confessing something to him that he wouldn't tell anyone else.

He turns to face Spock, clasping Spock's shoulder. "Thank you, Spock. Even if you set me straight back down on Earth, this would have been worth it. _Thank you._ "

"I am glad you are deriving such pleasure merely from leaving your planet, but rest assured that I fully intend to take you to the nebula. It is a trip of 25.7 light years from your solar system, and I will input the course now."

"That's further than your planet is! Spock, it'll take too long to get there!" _I can't be gone that long,_ he's thinking, _The longer I stay here with you, the harder it will be for me to leave._

"No, Jim. I have calculated that it will take only three and a half of your hours in warp 5." Spock crosses back to the center of the ship, stepping down the ramp to sit at the console again.

"Warp?" Jim turns in place so he can see Spock, but is reluctant to move too far from the window. He's not ready to give up his view just yet.

"A method of propulsion that allows starships and other spacecraft to travel faster than light. I will explain the principles to you later, if you wish."

"Yes, please do."

Spock finishes what he's doing to the controls, and the ship stars moving again, slowly cruising away from Earth. Jim faces the windows at the back of the ship, emotion rising in him again at the sight of Earth slowly decreasing in size. Excitement, and a little sadness. After all, that's his planet. Everything and _everyone_ he knows is down there.

"Not to be rude, but it doesn't seem like we'll be leaving the solar system in three days at this speed, let alone three hours."

"Indeed not. At this moment in time we are only traveling at impulse speed. It is not safe to enter warp until we get more distance between ourselves and your sun."

Jim nods, and then turns back to the window, just in time for them to cruise past Mars. He stays there, riveted, as they slowly pass each planet. Jim looks especially close at Pluto, thinking with a chuckle that no one standing there looking at it would argue that it's not a planet.

"Something amuses you, Jim?"

"Yeah. It's just.... What we just passed, we call it Pluto. There have been arguments for years as to whether it should be classified as a planet or not."

Spock cocks his head. "And what is the current prevailing opinion?"

"That it's not a true planet."

"Interesting. I do not doubt my mother will be interested to hear this." Spock looks down at his control board. "You may wish to hold onto something, as we are about to enter warp."

Jim nods, and goes to sit back down in the seat next to Spock, gripping the armrest with one hand and reaching down to pet Lady with the other. There's a barely perceptible lurch, and then the stars are no longer visible as distinct pinpricks of light, but have become white blurs streaking by.

Jim can't comprehend how fast they're going, and he's barely aware of standing and drifting back to the window. "Spock! This is incredible!"

Lady has followed him over, and huffs in agreement. She seems to be taking remarkably well to space travel, all things considered.

"Warp speed is one of the most remarkable scientific achievements of the last century," Spock agrees. "Jim, since I have partaken of your culture's traditional morning beverage, would you like to sample mine?"

Jim grins. That's Spock's endearingly formal way of asking him if he wants a drink. "I would love to."

He watches as Spock rises from his seat and moves to the meditation niche. He presses a hand to the curved steel plating and presses, and a little door slides open. Jim raises his eyebrows and watches as Spock enters something into the screen in the small compartment, and to Jim's amazement two cups shimmer into existence.

Spock brings the cups to Jim and hands him one, eyes twinkling at Jim's stunned expression. "It is a food synthesizer. This, too, I will explain if you wish."

The cup is warm, and the liquid inside smells like cinnamon. Jim sips it. It's tea, there's no doubt about it, even if the herbs and spices it's flavored with are extraterrestrial. Jim isn't a huge tea fan, but it's warm, and it would go nicely with a piece of pie.

Spock is sipping his, eyes half lidded in obvious contentment. "Do you enjoy it? It is Vulcan spice tea."

"It's nice," Jim says, drinking some more. "But respectfully, I think I prefer coffee."

"It is well. I thought the same thing about coffee, as I vastly prefer tea."

There's nothing to see outside now aside from the white streaks of stars, so Jim focuses all his attention on Spock. "You speak English so well. Did your mother teach you?"

"She did. She taught me English as well as several other Terran languages. Italian, French, and rudimentary Chinese and Russian." Jim's eyebrows are raised again, so Spock reminds him, "I did tell you she is a linguist, Jim. She has a talent for languages."

"I keep wondering about that, a human on Vulcan. Is she happy there?"

"I believe she is quite content. She does miss the planet of her birth at times, but Vulcan has truly become her home. And she has the wider universe open to her now. I have already spoken to you of the isolation and lack of stimulation for her intelligence on Earth. She now has hundreds of languages to study and learn, those of the worlds of the Federation, and those without. Additionally, as the wife of a diplomat, she does much traveling. My mother is in fact one of the key inventors behind one of our most important pieces of technology, the universal translator."

Spock is so obviously proud of his mom that Jim can't stop his smile. It's so sweet! He doesn't want to embarrass Spock, though, so he just nods along and then asks, "Your father is a diplomat?"

"Yes, he is Vulcan ambassador to other worlds. He is also known as a skilled mediator in planetary disputes."

Jim studies him. Half human, half Vulcan, the son of intelligent and talented parents. Smart and brilliant in his own right. And handsome to boot. His stomach flutters longingly. This is ridiculous, he's only known Spock for a matter of hours, but he's halfway to being in l—

_No,_ Jim tells himself sternly. _Don't say it.  If you say it, it'll be true._

"Tell me about warp," he says abruptly. He needs something solid to focus on, take his mind off of how compelling and attractive Spock is. He's hoping science will do the trick.

"Certainly." Spock details the principles behind warp speed travel, and even though he could have made it complex and hard for Jim to follow, he's careful to keep it simple enough that Jim can follow his explanations relatively well with just his layman’s knowledge acquired from interest, and yet not so simple that Jim is insulted.

Spock's eyes are bright, it's obvious he's passionate about science, and Jim can't help thinking Spock would make a great teacher.

That's how they pass the time on the trip to the nebula: Spock explains the food synthesizer next, after materializing a Vulcan dish and letting Jim taste it (pleasantly spicy), and then demonstrates the Vulcan written language.

Jim leans closer across the space between the two seats to study the delicate, filigree like symbols Spock drew on the device he produced from another hidden cupboard.

"Spock, it's beautiful! What does it say?"

"It says spirit of adventure," Spock answers, and looks at Jim, soft.

Jim feels like he's stopped breathing. They're staring silently at each other, and it feels meaningful, like something is about to happen. Jim starts to reach out to Spock, close the distance, take his hand.

The console in front of them beeps loudly, and Jim jumps. The ship is in autopilot, and he'd almost forgotten it was there.

"Ah, we have arrived." Spock's attention leaves Jim and goes to the console as he resumes manual control of his ship. "I am taking us to the closest safe distance so that you will have the best opportunity for observation."

“Spock….” Jim stares out the window at the red and orange swirling phenomenon in front of them. “It’s beautiful.”

"Yes," Spock agrees. "It is." The ship comes to a standstill, in its equivalent of park.

Spock is the first out of his seat this time, but he waits for Jim to rise before going to the window. They go together, their shoulders brushing feather light, just once.

Seeing his solar system, his planet, was incredible enough, but this. No human being has laid eyes on this before as anything but a speck of light in the distant sky. Jim is the first, and maybe the only one of his kind to get to see it.

And Spock has seen it before. He sees things like this, if not routinely, then more than once in his life. Jim feels the aching jealousy and hates it. He shouldn't resent Spock for having opportunities he doesn't. His species developed advanced spaceflight before Jim's, that's all.

Jim glances at Spock, and then has to keep on looking, his belly twisting in a very different way than envy. Spock is _gorgeous_ , even more otherworldly and elegant with the light of the nebula reflecting on his features.

"Your attention is not on the nebula," Spock says.

"No, it's not."

"Jim...." Spock turns fully to face him. They're standing so close that if either of them swayed forward just a little they could kiss. "I have brought you all this way to see this phenomenon, only to find you observing me instead."

"I feel like I could observe you all the way back to my planet and beyond." Jim is being honest, painfully so. He only has so much time left with Spock: the return trip to Earth, and that's it. After that, Spock will return to Vulcan, and Jim's life will go on as it did before he met Spock. Might as well throw caution to the wind. "You're the most fascinating person I've ever met."

"That is what I think of you, Jim." Spock's gaze drifts from Jim's eyes to his lips and back. "I do not believe there is anyone like you on my planet."

"There's at least one human on Vulcan."

"That is not what I mean and I believe you know it." Spock reaches into the minuscule space between them, pauses. His hand hovers there. "Do you wish to know how my race kisses?"

The blood rushes to Jim's face at the unexpected question. "Spock!" He continues to wait, patient and gentle, and Jim blurts, "Of course."

Spock takes Jim's hand in his own, using his other to fold down all of Jim's fingers except his middle and index. Then Spock extends his own fingers and brushes them lightly across Jim's.

Just like before, when their hands accidentally met over the blanket, there's a pleasant tingle. Spock lets out an honest to god sigh, and touches Jim's fingertips again, more firmly this time.

It's nice, really nice. Jim looks up from their joined fingertips to see Spock a little flushed and very intent, and figures Spock is getting more out of it than he is, but still. It's pleasant.

Not as pleasant as it would be to have Spock's soft looking lips on his. "Spock," Jim says, and can't help the way it's almost a purr as he trails his fingers down the side of Spock's, to his wrist and back. "Would you like to know how humans kiss?"

Spock _smiles._ "I do not require instruction in this area."

Jim blinks, duh, Spock's mother is human, she must have taught his father, Spock must have seen— And then Spock closes the distance completely and presses his mouth to Jim's in a sweet, soft kiss.

It's gentle, almost chaste. Spock is slow and methodical as he learns how to do what he's only observed previously.

Jim throws himself into the kiss, absently finding Spock's hand again to rub their fingers together. Spock actually gasps against his lips, and Jim's response is to unconsciously back Spock up against the viewing window, folding their hands together and gently squeezing as he licks into Spock's mouth.

"Jim!" Spock jerks out of their kisses, both of them, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. "That is a very....that is...."

He's breathless, speechless, and it takes Jim only seconds to connect the dots. Vulcans kiss with their hands, so what he just did was probably more intimate, as well as startling and presumptuous.

"I'm sorry, Spock," he says sincerely, daring a hand on Spock's waist.

"It is well. I was simply not prepared." Spock relaxes again, leaning back against the window, lips slick from the kiss, hands open at his sides. He's just asking to be kissed more, in both ways, and Jim just wants to smooch him again and again. Over Spock's shoulder, the nebula shines bright and beautiful.

Jim never wants the moment to end. An incredible space phenomenon to look at, a beautiful man under his hands. Can't this just be his life now? He realizes there's a steady, pronounced rhythm in Spock's side, under his palm, and he blinks, eyes flicking down to stare.

"Your heartbeat?"

"Of course. And yours is," Spock places a hand on the left side of Jim's chest, "right here." His touch is light, but it feels like a brand, going straight through him. Marking him as Spock's.

Jim wants to be Spock's.

He has his heart in his side, how alien, how utterly charming. Jim meets Spock's eyes and suddenly can't take it anymore, can't hold back the awful image of Spock dropping him off on his farm and flying away, forever. "Spock, I—" _I don't want you to leave. I don't want to never see you again. I don't want to go back to being alone._ He chokes on the words, can't get them out, doesn't want Spock to see how desperate and needy he feels.

Spock understands perfectly, somehow. "I do not wish to leave you on your planet." He pauses, leans in to brush his lips over Jim's cheek. "Come to Vulcan with me."

Impossible. Irresistible. "I _can't._ "

"Why not?"

Why not, indeed. "Lady," Jim says, unhappily. "I could never leave her." Nails on the deck plates and a soft whine announce her arrival behind him. She nudges his leg.

"There is no need to leave her. She has taken to spaceflight remarkably well, and I see no reason she could not come with you." Spock reaches past Jim to her, patting her. "We have pets there, my own family has a sehlat, and I believe if you bring some of her food, it will be a relatively simple matter to produce more for her."

"The family farm," Jim begins, but stops, screaming at himself internally to just stop.  Stop making excuses, reasons he can't be happy, can’t have what he wants. It's the _family_ farm for god' s sake, Sam can either sell it or move back to take care of it. Hasn’t he waited long enough, put everyone else first enough to deserve to prioritize himself, just once?

Jim thinks of his farm. It was a responsibility he never wanted. He thinks about his family. He thinks of Vulcan, of the Federation Spock so briefly described.

Mostly, he thinks of _Spock._

He knows there's only one answer he can give now, now that he knows he can have Spock.

"Yeah. Yes. Yes, Spock," Jim whispers, taking Spock's hands and kissing him, on the mouth and with his fingertips. He's going to be selfish for the first time in his life. "I'll come with you."

Spock kisses him back, more passionate now than before. "I am so pleased," he whispers, kissing Jim's lips, his cheek, his forehead. "It is fascinating to finally utilize the human fashion of kissing after witnessing it all my life," he murmurs absently, then looks speculatively down at their joined hands. He brings them up and presses his lips to Jim's fingertips.

"Isn't that scandalous?" Jim asks curiously. It's so cute that even now Spock is interested in everything.

"Slightly. We musn't do it in public on Vulcan." Spock's tongue darts out and meets the end of Jim's index finger for just an instant. "In private is another matter."

Jim takes his hands back and steps away from Spock. Lady moves seamlessly with him, in no danger of being stepped on. "That's enough of that for now, much as I want to keep kissing you." And he _does._ Spock's soft lips, his long elegant fingers, they call to Jim. Now that he's had a taste he wants more, forever. "I need to return to Earth before anything else. I have to pack and get some things sorted out."

For an instant, just a single microscopic moment, Spock looks distinctly _pouty_ that Jim is no longer kissing him. The expression is gone so fast Jim almost feels like he imagined it. "Very well."

With one last look at the nebula, Jim takes his seat again. "Thank you for bringing me here. It truly is beautiful."

Spock sits too and begins readying the ship for their flight back to Earth. "Do not fear, we may return here at any time if you wish to see it again. There are other sights to see. So many places I wish to take you, Jim. And perhaps you will be the one flying the ship."

He admires Spock's skilled hands on the control board. Jim, piloting a spaceship? He would love that. "If I can learn, I will." He thinks about the incredible technology in just this one ship, Spock is so at ease with that it must be widespread on Vulcan if not throughout the entire Federation. There will be so much for him to learn.

"You will be able to learn anything you wish, Jim. You may even take classes at the Vulcan Science Academy. It is Vulcan's premier learning institution."

The possibilities in Jim's future make his head spin. More than anything, the prospect of exploring the universe with Spock makes him grin and squeeze Spock's arm gently. There's a sleeve between their skin, so it's not as intimate a touch as the hand holding was.

They spend the rest of the return trip to Earth in comfortable silence. There's nothing else that needs to be said. Occasionally, Jim catches Spock observing him, warm brown eyes longing. He understands the feeling, but they keep their hands and mouths to themselves. At one point Jim gets out of his seat and goes to pet Lady where she’s curled up on the meditation mat, all to keep from trailing his fingers over the delicate points of Spock's ears. (Why didn't he touch them when he had the chance?)

Upon reaching Earth, Spock exits warp again, and they hover over Jim's planet for a moment. Jim stares down at it, feeling the enormity of his decision. This is one of the last times he'll ever see Earth. He's leaving it, and everything he's ever known, behind.

He glances at Spock, feels acutely his heart pounding, and knows he can't do anything else.

"Brace yourself, Jim, we are about to enter the atmosphere." Spock engages the shield, and then begins maneuvering them down to the surface.

"I hope you have better navigational skills this time around than you did when you landed in my cornfield." Jim pictures another farmer in a small Iowan town discovering Jim and Spock descending the ship's exit ramp in the middle of his field, and chuckles. He hasn't forgotten that Spock was originally looking for a different town entirely.

"I made a point of memorizing our position before we left Earth." Spock sounds miffed that Jim is doubting him. "I do not intend to alert any other humans to Vulcan's existence until Earth is deemed ready for first contact."

Hold on. How has Spock not mentioned this at all, with all the talking they've done? "First contact? You mean, your people are going to reveal to the entire planet that not only is there one other intelligent race out there, there are _hundreds?_ "

"Indeed. That has been the plan all along. My father was here to gather information about your race's technological progression. He was simply never meant to land on the planet itself."

They're well into the planet's atmosphere now. The sky around them is starting to become the familiar brilliant blue. Jim thinks absently that soon he'll have to adjust to a red sky. "What's the opinion right now, regarding how long to wait?"

"My father believes that in terms of modernization humans are advanced enough to react logically to being presented with the fact that they are not alone in the universe." Spock pauses, glances at Jim. "My mother presented compelling testimony to the Council of Elders that Terra is _not_ ready for contact."

Jim makes a thoughtful noise, trying to picture that scene-- Spock's human mother standing before the imposing sounding Council, telling them that humans are emotional, impulsive creatures that would as soon shoot them as shake their hand. (Jim pictures the Vulcan's faces at being greeted with that intimate touch, and almost laughs.)

"What do you believe, Jim?" Spock looks at him again, quickly, before reverting his attention back to their descent. They're almost to the ground, trees becoming visible as more than just a shapeless green mass. "After all, more than twenty years separates your experience of humanity with my mother's."

Jim peers out the view screen. He can see the shape of Riverside spread out below them. "I think she's probably right. As a race, we're not ready yet to accept other species. We can't even fully accept one another’s differences. I hope someday we’ll be prepared, but not yet.”

They set down perfectly into Jim’s now ruined cornfield with only the slightest of bumps. Spock really is a good pilot. Maybe he’ll be the one to teach Jim.

Jim sighs heavily, looking absently out the window at the corn and trying to think of what he needs to do before he can leave with Spock.

The ramp slides noiselessly down and out, and sunshine floods the ship. As the lights overhead dim again, Spock asks, “Do you want me to come with you, Jim?”  
“No, it’s okay.” Jim gets out of his seat and starts towards the ramp. Somehow, everything outside the ship seems like a distant dream now. Spock, the ship, the future, that’s the reality. He stops before he actually heads down, looking over his shoulder at Spock.

The Vulcan looks uncertain. Maybe he’s worried Jim has changed his mind and isn’t coming back, that he’ll call the authorities as soon as he gets back to his house.

“It shouldn’t take me more than a few minutes,” he reassures Spock. “I just need to arrange for someone to come feed the animals for a while, and leave word for my mom and brother.” Jim thinks of his mother, and there’s the expected guilt and sadness, but also determination. She doesn’t need him to take care of her anymore, she has Sam.

Sam. Jim sighs as he calls Lady and they walk out into the cornfield together. It looks more like a landing strip than anything else now with how flattened it is, and he laughs, wondering what anyone looking at it will think happened to it.

More theories about crop circles, probably.

In the house, Jim quickly packs a few things for himself (a few changes of clothes, a photo album because okay, he’s a little sentimental, a couple other mementos) and then after thinking about it for a second, adds a can of coffee. He’s not sure what Spock’s father will make of him, but at least he’ll make a good first impression on Spock’s mother when he comes bearing coffee.

Jim leaves his bag and Lady’s obscenely large sack of dog food by the back door, and then calls his friend McCoy to ask him to drop by and feed the animals. He’ll complain endlessly about it, but he won’t let them starve. 

Then he sits down to write a note to his family. Jim stares blankly at the notebook on his lap. How is he supposed to say goodbye to his family? They’ll worry. They’ll look for him. They might even jump to terrible conclusions and think that he’s gone off somewhere to hurt himself.

Finally, he decides to just tell them the truth, or as close as he can come to the truth without leaving them with the impression that he’s gone off the deep end.

_Mom, Sam,_

_I’m leaving. I guess that’s stating the obvious, since by the time you read this, someone will probably have alerted you guys that I’m gone, but. Well. I’m leaving. You can look for me, if you want, but you won’t find me. Probably pointless to tell you not to worry, especially you, Mom, but I’m happy. I hope that helps._

_I met someone. Someone really amazing, and I’m going home with him. That’s all I can tell you, aside from repeating that I’m happy, and this is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me._

_Sam, do what you want with the farm. Take it over if you want, or sell it, I guess. It’s up to you and Mom._

_I’ll miss you both. I’ll try to come back to see you someday. I love you._

_Jim_

Jim leaves the note on the dining table, then gets his bag and the dog food and whistles for Lady. She’s right on his heels as they exit their house for the last time.

Before he heads back into the field, to the ship, to _Spock_ , Jim stops to look out over the farm one last time. He tries to commit it all to memory: the house, the barn, the fields. He grew up here, he and Sam played and fought here. His Dad withered away and died here. There are memories in every inch, good and bad. So much of his life was invested in this place. In recent years, he’s come to resent the Kirk farm, for what it symbolized.

And now he’s leaving it all behind. Going to Vulcan. A foreign planet, filled with another species. A whole Federation full of other races.

He can’t _wait._

With a spring in his step, Jim turns away and heads towards his future. Spock is waiting for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Artistic liberties were quite obviously taken, for fun or for convenience. This includes giving Vulcans actual flying saucers, making warp speed faster than it probably is in canon, making Amanda from Iowa, making Vulcans NOT be bigoted little shits... Also, I know nothing about nebulas or space stuff, so I'm sorry if you do and I butchered that.


End file.
